<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Sun and Moon by topleaf</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27949187">Sun and Moon</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/topleaf/pseuds/topleaf'>topleaf</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Enemies to Lovers, M/M, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, they have embarrassing soulmarks ok</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 23:41:15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>15,963</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27949187</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/topleaf/pseuds/topleaf</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>In Middle Earth, your soulmate’s first impression of you is written on the inside of your wrist. Bilbo’s says <i>Mahal, he’s hot.</i> Thorin’s says <i>Oh. He’s quite handsome for a dwarf.</i></p><p>It’s quite obvious that they are meant to be together—to everyone except Bilbo and Thorin, of course.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Bilbo Baggins/Thorin Oakenshield</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>36</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>331</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Have A Happy Hobbit Holiday 2020</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Sun and Moon</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gaaladrieel/gifts">Gaaladrieel</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>My gift for Have a Happy Hobbit Holiday 2020! This is my first time participating, and wow, it was difficult to get time to write during this busy time! This is definitely unpolished &amp; not as long as I would've liked, but I hope it will make you smile or laugh during these tough times. Please don't take this story too seriously &lt;3 Much love!!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <hr/><p>
  <span>“Mum, what does ‘Mahal’ mean?” Little Bilbo asked during dinner. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Belladonna peered at Bilbo’s father, Bungo, over the brim of her mug. The two of them shared a look, and she swallowed down her swig of ale before answering. “It means ‘Maker’ in Khuzdul, the secret language of the Dwarves.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bungo cleared his throat loudly and excused himself from the table. Bilbo blinked at his mother in surprise, then glanced down at the pale golden words on his wrist. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Have the other fauntlings been teasing you?” Belladonna asked, narrowing her eyes at him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not at all,” Bilbo replied, straightening his back and grinning proudly. “Many of them are jealous that I have one.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Indeed?” Belladonna’s eyes twinkled. “You’ve had your soulmark since birth, which means your soulmate is older than you. Do you remember my friend Gandalf? The old wizard?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bilbo hummed in thought, and soon the memory of a large man with long bushy grey eyebrows popped into his head. “Yes, the one with the fireworks. You don’t mean…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, I don’t mean that he’s your soulmate,” Belladonna laughed, then leaned across the table. “Not long after you were born, Gandalf came for a visit. I asked him what ‘Mahal’ meant, and all he told me was that it means ‘Maker’ in Khuzdul.” She sighed and took a swig of ale. “He seemed very amused when he saw your soulmark. Indeed, it’s a little odd for such a young faunt to have one already, but yours is clearly special.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m still confused,” Bilbo said with a frown. “Do you have a soulmark?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I used to, before I fell in love with your Pa.” Belladonna grinned. “Your soulmark responds to your heart, you see. Once you’ve truly bonded with your soulmate, it will glow, and eventually it fades into beautiful flowers.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She held out her wrist and Bilbo examined the faint golden outline of roses and daisies. His father’s had always matched her’s, and Bilbo had only recently taken notice of how his Aunts and Uncles had flowers of their own. Just like how he had only recently been able to sound out the words on his own wrist and wonder what they meant.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What did your mark say?” Bilbo asked, cocking his head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Belladonna’s cheeks flushed pink. “I’ll tell you when you’re older, my dear. It was something similar to yours, in fact.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did yours have a Dwarvish word too?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, no,” Belladonna replied hastily. “Trust me, you will understand one day.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bilbo pouted as Belladonna began cleaning up the plates. “I am old enough to understand, Mum.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Belladonna snorted. “You are still a little sprout, my dear Bilbo.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Am I to marry a Dwarf, then?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s very likely, yes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What do dwarves look like? Do they live in the Shire too?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Belladonna sighed, crossing her arms and looking Bilbo square in the eyes. “They look very different from hobbits and live in the mountains. I’ve met some before and they were very kind, but it’s been a long time since I’ve done any traveling. Someday when you’re old enough, you’ll be able to go traveling on your own, and maybe then you’ll meet your soulmate.” She crouched down so she was face to face with Bilbo and held his shoulders. “Now, if any hobbit ever teases you or makes you feel bad about your soulmark, don’t let it get to you. You come tell me straight away and I will tell them to bugger off.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I shall tell them to bugger off myself,” Bilbo said proudly. “But why should anyone tease me about it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Belladonna pursed her lips and patted Bilbo’s shoulders. “You just let me know if anyone does, alright?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bilbo nodded and his mother gave him a swift kiss on the head before telling him to go ask his Pa to help him with his nightly reading practice. The little hobbit pattered out of the kitchen and found Bungo in his favourite chair next to the fireplace.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hello my lad, ready for your bedtime story?” Bungo asked, removing his reading glasses.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes Pa,” Bilbo replied, then rocked back and forth on his heels awkwardly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is something the matter?” Bungo asked with a worried frown.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bilbo peered down at his wrist again, the words shimmering in the firelight. “Pa, will </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span> tell me what </span>
  <em>
    <span>Mahal, he’s hot</span>
  </em>
  <span> means?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bungo let out a groan and pinched the bridge of his nose.</span>
</p>
<hr/><p>
  <span>Thorin always knew he was ugly by dwarf standards, especially after he made the decision to keep his beard shorn in honor of the dwarves who lost their lives by dragonfire. His appearance never mattered to him much, however, and after his life in Erebor had crumbled and the survival of his people rested on his shoulders, it made sense why his left wrist had always been bare. He had no soulmate, and was instead destined for a life of hard work in the Ered Luin, and his dreams were filled with visions of reclaiming Erebor. Thorin had suppressed his desire to be in love long ago.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then one morning, on the first day of autumn, Thorin awoke to find a most surprising discovery. Pale blue words, shining like moonlight on his wrist: </span>
  <em>
    <span>Oh. He’s quite handsome for a dwarf.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Thorin slumped back onto his bed, gaping down at his wrist in disbelief and utter confusion, reading the words over and over again. So. His soulmate had just been born, and it was not difficult to come to the conclusion that his soulmate must not be a dwarf. Thorin was currently at the distinguished age of 145, and for his soulmate to have just been born today, it would be entirely inappropriate for them to meet and fall in love before another 50 years! </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Even more distressing was the fact that this newborn baby was not a dwarf. A dwarf would never think such an odd thing. </span>
  <em>
    <span>He’s quite handsome for a dwarf.</span>
  </em>
  <span> First of all, Thorin was not handsome in the eyes of dwarves, yet he had been informed in the past that he was considered handsome in the eyes of Men. They were all so large, though, and not attractive at all in Thorin’s opinion, and he always felt confused by their ages. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His stomach lurched at his next thought. There was no possible way that Thorin’s soulmate could be a thrice-damned </span>
  <em>
    <span>Elf. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Although he would not put it past Mahal to curse him in such a way, seeing as his life had not exactly been an easy or luminous path. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>At that, he stopped pondering and distracted himself with getting dressed and ready for the day, making sure his sleeve covered his wrist completely. He would keep this hidden. No one would know of it, not even his sister. Thorin would take this sudden inconvenient soulmark to his grave.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That was easier said than done, of course. Thorin wiped at his brow, rolling up his sleeves in the stifling heat of the forge. His soulmark flashed across his vision, gleaming brightly in the lowlight of the room, and he hastily pushed his sleeves back down before any of the other blacksmiths noticed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then he changed and went to the weekly council meeting, quickly finding that his sleeves moved up whenever he lifted his arms at all, and spent the entire meeting being distracted by it and trying not to let anyone see.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is everything alright, Thorin?” Dis asked, cocking an eyebrow at him once it was only her, Thorin, and Balin in the room.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just tired,” Thorin replied shortly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Have you been suffering from night terrors again?” Dis asked in a low voice.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not as of late,” Thorin said, giving her a reassuring smile. “Do not trouble yourself, Dis, everything is fine. I will take a short rest before supper.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Balin and Dis must have shared a suspicious look behind his back as he left the council room. He strode to his quarters, staring down at the soulmark that was still there, the words </span>
  <em>
    <span>Oh. He’s quite handsome for a dwarf</span>
  </em>
  <span> bright and blaring on his ruddy skin. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mahal, he was doomed. </span>
</p>
<hr/><p>
  <span>“Let me see your wrist.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Your wrist. Let me see it,” Camellia Chubb inched closer to Bilbo, her long eyelashes fluttering as her gaze flickered down to his tightly clasped hands.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bilbo gulped, and he tugged at his sleeve to make sure it was still covering his soulmark. “And why should I show you my wrist?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Camellia let out an impatient huff. She was far too close for comfort, and the unnaturally sweet scent wafting from her curls gave Bilbo a headache. He leaned away as she leaned into him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Have some respect for my personal space, thank you very much,” Bilbo grumbled.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Bilbo,” Camellia said, her gaze very serious. “I think I’m in love with you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A violent wheeze escaped Bilbo’s lips before he could stop himself. “You can’t be serious, you only met me last week!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The hobbit lass frowned. “Just let me see your soulmark so I can be sure! Please?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bilbo quickly retracted his arm when Camellia snatched for it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can assure you, you’re not my soulmate,” Bilbo said, shrugging.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll show you mine if you show me yours,” Camellia said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I already saw yours, and it most certainly does </span>
  <em>
    <span>not </span>
  </em>
  <span>match my first impression of you,” Bilbo said, suppressing a snort. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Camellia crossed her arms. “If you don’t show me your soulmark, I’ll tell Theo that you fancy him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bilbo rolled his eyes. “I don’t fancy—oh, alright, I’ll show you, only if you promise to leave me alone and never tell anyone else what it says.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I promise!” Camellia exclaimed far too quickly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bilbo took a deep breath, sauntered forward, and revealed his wrist. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then all at once, Camellia clapped a hand to her mouth, squealed, cackled, then ran off screaming “It’s true! It’s true! Bilbo’s soulmate is a dwarf who thinks he’s hot!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A chorus of laughter burst from the nearby bushes along with a group of Camellia’s friends. Bilbo rolled his eyes and strode back to the path that led up to the Hill. He found it difficult to breathe, as his chest had tightened up a great deal, and the lump in his throat wasn’t helping either.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As word of Bilbo’s strange and highly amusing soulmark spread throughout the tweens of Hobbiton, anytime dwarves happened to pass through the village Bilbo would be teased mercilessly. He quickly grew to dislike dwarves and go out of his way to avoid them; he wanted nothing to do with them. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There were dwarves in the marketplace today,” Belladonna said pointedly one Sunday afternoon. “If only you had been there, Bilbo. They can actually be quite handsome, once you get past the beards and the—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, I’m glad I opted to stay home to make luncheon instead. It’s all prepared in the dining room for you,” Bilbo said with a forced smile. “Let me help you with those baskets.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Belladonna let out the most dramatically Tookish sigh Bilbo had ever heard.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?” Bilbo snapped, and immediately froze when he saw the pain in his mother’s eyes. “I-I’m sorry, Mum, I’m just—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know, I know,” Belladonna replied. “I’m worried about you, Bilbo. I know you’ve been getting teased and it’s gotten the better of you. You haven’t been going out as much, you’ve been closed off, and I understand that we both need to take care of your father right now but I know that’s not the reason for this change.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There’s a lot more to it, you know,” Bilbo said thickly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You can tell me, Bilbo,” Belladonna said, setting down her baskets and clutching his shoulders. “If you’ve no one else to talk to about it, please know you can always talk to me. I am on your side, and I’ll never laugh at you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bilbo forced a flicker of a smile, but it was no use. His mother would see right through him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“When I’m ready to talk about it, I will. Just, please, for now...don’t mention dwarves. Or my mark. I’d prefer to pretend it doesn’t exist.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Belladonna nodded. “Alright, my dear. I understand.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bilbo couldn’t meet his mother’s eyes anymore; although she smiled at him and told him she understood, her eyes could not conceal how his words wounded her heart. Soon Bilbo would come of age, and she would have to let her son live the life he chose for himself; and Bilbo Baggins would not let a silly mark rule his life and reputation forever.</span>
</p>
<hr/><p>
  <span>“AaaaauuuUUUUUUGHHHHHH!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thorin’s scream was ripped from deep within his chest as Dwalin slammed into his body with the force and weight of a warhammer. Sweat stung his eyes, matted tendrils of his raven hair fell into his face as he dug his heels into the dirt with all of his strength. Still, Dwalin managed to best him again, and released Thorin from his iron grip before things got out of hand. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’d rather not break your nose again,” Dwalin said, grinning smugly. His furred chest, covered in tattoos and piercings and gleaming in the hot sunlight, heaved up and down, yet still he hardly seemed as exhausted as he should be.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thorin attempted to hide the fact that his knees were ready to give out. “I suppose I should thank you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dwalin only smirked before tossing a towel to Thorin. “Join me for a pint, then. It’s been too long.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Indeed,” Thorin said, wiping his brow with the towel. “After supper.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nah, let’s have a drink now,” Dwalin said, clapping Thorin on the back. “It’ll cool us down, relax the muscles.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I suppose,” Thorin said slowly. Something about the mischievous look in Dwalin’s eyes made him suspicious. He had never seen Dwalin look so much like Balin before, and it concerned him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Once they had put on their tunics again, they strode into the tavern, smelling strongly of sweat and dirt, and all eyes were immediately on Thorin. A few dwarves rose to their feet, and Thorin motioned for them to be at ease. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“See, it’s been too long since you’ve had a drink here,” Dwalin muttered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thorin remained silent, guilt washing over him as he contemplated making an exit and hurrying back to his quarters. He needed to work hard for his people; he should not be seen taking breaks to spar or drink.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dwalin elbowed him in the ribs. “Quit yer moping, Thorin, you deserve this!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thorin clutched his side, a smile reluctantly spreading across his face. “Order us a round, then.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He took a seat in the corner of the tavern, in the shadows, absentmindedly tugging his sleeve to ensure it covered his wrist. The thin fabric of his tunic barely concealed the moonlit words that glinted there. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thorin was jolted from his drifting thoughts when Dwalin slammed a tankard of mead onto the table, golden liquid sloshing over the edges. Thorin looked up at Dwalin, his brow furrowing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Right,” Dwalin said, taking a seat and slapping his knees. “Cheers.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thorin kept his eyes on his friend as he drank, gulping down the chilled mead until there was almost nothing left. Dwalin slammed his own tankard down once again, wiping off his beard, and then he looked Thorin square in the eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“What?”</span>
  </em>
  <span> Thorin snapped a little more defensively than he meant.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So how long have you had that soulmark o’yers?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thorin’s stomach dropped. Oh, he had been so stupid and careless. He had been so consumed in the heat of his training with Dwalin, not to mention the heat of the blazing sun, that he had removed his tunic without thinking that Dwalin would be perceptive enough to notice the mark. Thorin had even forgotten to cover it up at all.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He stood up abruptly but Dwalin immediately clasped his wrist. “Thorin. Don’t do this to yerself. Come on, how long have you been hiding it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It is not your concern, nor your burden,” Thorin grumbled, pulling his hand away, becoming increasingly aware of all the eyes on him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Burden?” Dwalin snorted. “Thorin, this should be celebrated. There’s someone for you out there.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Keep your voice down,” Thorin gritted out. “No one else knows, and I want to keep it that way. Dwalin, swear to me you will not speak of this ever again.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dwalin gave Thorin the most unamused, disapproving glare in the history of Arda. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If I swear it, will you at least show me what it says?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thorin tried to stand up again but Dwalin clapped a hand on his shoulder and forced him to sit down.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Remember when I showed you my bloody mark all those years ago and you spewed ale out of yer nose from laughing so hard?” Dwalin growled. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thorin felt the corner of his mouth twitch at the memory. “I do.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You owe me,” Dwalin said, clutching the fabric of Thorin’s tunic in his giant fist. “Show me the mark.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thorin’s shoulders slumped in defeat. He slammed down the last of his mead, glowered at the others in the tavern until they looked away, and revealed his wrist in the most aggressive way possible.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dwalin leaned forward, scanning the words for far longer than needed. Thorin retracted his arm and quickly covered it up again. “There. Are you pleased?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was a long uncomfortable silence. Then Dwalin looked up at Thorin, wide-eyed. “I see why yeh want to hide it. I can’t believe yer soulmate is a...a tree-shagging, naked-jawed, horse-riding </span>
  <em>
    <span>Elf.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“It cannot be, and will never be,” Thorin snarled, his voice growing louder with every word. “I would rather die than discover who my damned soulmate is. I am devoted to my people and my craft!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He stormed out of the tavern, not stopping until he reached his quarters, where he slammed his door and fell to his knees, shaking and wishing he could tear away the skin and be rid of this accursed mark forever. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Brother?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thorin jumped, whirling around to see his sister in the doorway.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I tried knocking, but you weren’t answering. Forgive me for worrying,” Dis said. “May I come in?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thorin sighed and slumped into the nearest chair. “How long have you known?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dis let out a soft chuckle and gently shut the door behind her. “About your soulmark? Only for a month now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And everyone else?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, Fili and Kili discovered it first, but they don’t know what it says. I’m surprised half the mountain hasn’t been questioning you about it yet.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Durin’s beard…” Thorin scrubbed his face with his hands.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know it is a personal matter, and that you might react this way if it ever happened, so I threatened my sons enough that they managed to keep a tight lip. A miracle, I know.” Dis laughed, and clapped Thorin on the shoulder. “You should probably know the truth. I told Dwalin to confront you about it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thorin couldn’t even be angry, he had gathered that the moment Dis walked into the room. He remained silent.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And then all at once, Dis clocked Thorin on the head, dug her fists into the fabric of his tunic and yanked him to his feet.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thorin, someone out there thinks you’re handsome, someone out there will want to shag you, and it doesn’t matter if they’re an Elf, a Man, or even one of those strange little halflings we’ve sometimes spotted in Bree,” Dis growled, her eyes on fire, shaking her brother’s shoulders. “You’ve been miserable ever since we lost Erebor, and now you have a soulmate out there that would make you happy, and for Durin’s sake, just think of yourself for once!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I will </span>
  <em>
    <span>not </span>
  </em>
  <span>let a silly mark rule my life and ruin my reputation,” Thorin bellowed. “If I had it my way, I would never speak to another outsider ever again. The world is cruel, its inhabitants are selfish, and I have a duty toward making a better life for my people who have suffered above anyone else.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dis pushed him away and reeled back. Behind the fiery anger in her eyes, Thorin could find sadness. Dis swore under her breath, and tears began to stain her cheeks and beard once she blinked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I lost my soulmate, Thorin,” she whispered, and shoved her sleeve up to her elbow and revealed her wrist. “Consider yourself lucky, then, for you’ll never know the pain of losing yours.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She strode out of the room, and Thorin fell back into his chair, his test tight with guilt and regret. He peered down at his wrist, the words </span>
  <em>
    <span>Oh. He’s quite handsome for a dwarf.</span>
  </em>
  <span> glimmering in the dimly lit room, but all he could see were the markings on his sister’s wrist. The words had become unintelligible, replaced by blackened scorch marks. </span>
</p>
<hr/><p> <span>It was a fine morning, and Bilbo was enjoying blowing smoke rings on the little bench in front of Bag End. He considered himself happy; living the life of a bachelor, learning to live with the pain of his mother’s passing, the Sackville-Bagginses swearing they would never set foot in Bag End as long as Bilbo was living there. He considered that good luck.</span></p><p>
  <span>No one bothered him about his soulmark anymore; many had forgotten, or perhaps they chose not to pry. Most hobbits around Bilbo’s age were settled down and producing fauntlings at a startling rate. Bilbo did not envy them in the slightest. Dwarves became a far rarer sight in the Shire, to Bilbo’s relief, and thus he remained a bachelor and had no desire to change that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>           And then Gandalf showed up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>           Gandalf who Bilbo had forgotten about, and had assumed the old wizard was, to put it bluntly, dead as a doornail.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>           “Are you here to offer condolences?” Bilbo asked the old man, cocking his head. “If so, you’re 7 years late, I’m afraid.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>           “I was very saddened when I received word of Belladonna’s passing, however, that is not why I’ve come,” Gandalf replied, and peered down at Bilbo with a disturbingly mischievous glint in his eye. “I’m looking for someone to share in an adventure.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>           Bilbo’s pipe fell from his mouth and he coughed and sputtered. “An adventure? I don’t imagine anyone west of Bree would have much interest in adventures. Nasty, disturbing, uncomfortable things. Make you late for dinner.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>           Indeed, he had a very bad feeling about all this. Naturally, as soon as Bilbo has established a decent reputation and living happily and comfortably, a ghost of his past would turn up and attempt to uproot him. It was as if his mother had somehow spoken to Gandalf from the afterlife, still worrying about her son from wherever she was. Bilbo absentmindedly fiddled with the buttons over his wrist.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>           “Well, that’s decided,” Gandalf exclaimed. “It’ll be very good for you and most amusing for me. I shall inform the others.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>           “Inform the who?” Bilbo squeaked, yanking his sleeve down even further and retreating up to his doorstep. “No! We don’t want any adventures here! Not today, not—I suggest you try over the Hill or across the water. Good morning.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>           Bilbo locked the door behind him, keeping his back pressed against it in case the wizard tried to break down the door. Instead, he heard the sound of something being carved onto it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>           “Blasted old—” Bilbo grumbled, peering out the window, only to be startled by Gandalf’s eye peering back at him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>           Bilbo hid inside his room for the next two hours, scared out of his wits. His mother must surely be having a good laugh from the afterlife, sending an old wizard to his door just to tease him. Bilbo remembered when he asked his mother if Gandalf was his soulmate, and an entire new wave of paranoia washed over him as he stared at the words on his wrist, blazing brightly as they always had. Gandalf could not possibly remember what Bilbo’s soulmark said after all these years. Could he?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>           Fresh air. He needed fresh air and a distraction. Bilbo set off to the marketplace to pick up some fresh fish for dinner, and could only hope he would not run into Gandalf there. Or worse, dwarves.</span>
</p>
<hr/><p>
  <span>The heavy rain pattered down over Thorin’s heavy cloak as he trudged through the muddy streets of Bree. He hated traveling, and was reminded of that as he sat inside the busy inn of the Prancing Pony, glaring at all of the patrons around him. Mostly Men, and the occasional halfling. He wasn’t sure if it was paranoia or not, but all eyes seemed to be on him, and he reached for his sword as two men began to approach him from the darkest corners of the room.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>           His heart leapt when another figure sat down across from him. An old man with a long grey beard and—Tharkûn. Relief washed over him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>           “I should introduce myself,” he said. “My name is Gandalf. Gandalf the Grey.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>           “I know who you are,” Thorin grumbled.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>           “Well now, this is a fine chance.” Gandalf grinned, folding his hands in front of him. A fine chance indeed; very convenient that not two minutes after Gandalf had sat down, he began urging Thorin to take back Erebor.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>           “This is no chance meeting, is it, Gandalf?” Thorin said slyly, taking a swig from his tankard.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>           It was not difficult to convince him. Thorin had been feeling more and more unrest as his night terrors had become worse, leading him to venturing out in search of his father. It was unlike Thorin to leave the Ered Luin at all, but as Gandalf urged him to unite the armies of the Dwarves, Thorin began to feel alive for the first time in an age.</span>
</p><p> <span>“Summon a meeting of the seven dwarf families—demand they stand by their oath,” Gandalf said.</span></p><p>
  <span>           “The seven families swore their oath to the one who wields the King’s Jewel, the Arkenstone. It is the only thing that will unite them and in case you’ve forgotten that jewel was stolen by Smaug,” Thorin snapped.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>           Gandalf looked over his shoulder, and when he looked back at Thorin, an unsettling mischief and excitement danced in his eyes. “What if I were to help you reclaim it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>           Thorin’s heart thrummed against his chest. “How? The Arkenstone lies half a world away, buried beneath the feet of a fire-breathing dragon.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>           “Yes it does,” Gandalf said, unable to even hide his excitement anymore as he smirked and raised his bushy grey eyebrows. “Which is why we’re going to need a burglar.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>           “A burglar?” Thorin repeated. “There is one I know of—Nori, one of my kin.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>           “Yes, I know of Nori,” Gandalf said with an air of impatience. “I have someone else in mind already.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>           “Who, then?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>           Gandalf’s face scrunched up in the most mischievous grin Thorin had ever seen. “An old friend of mine. His name is Baggins, Bilbo Baggins to be exact, and he is a very charming and clever fellow. A bachelor too I hear, unattached, and—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>           “What makes this Baggins more skilled than Nori?” Thorin interrupted.</span>
</p><p> <span>“Bilbo is a hobbit,” Gandalf continued. “They are swift and light on their feet, and the scent of a hobbit is all but unknown to Smaug.”</span></p><p>
  <span>           “If he is traveling with dwarves, won’t he smell like one by the time we reach the mountain?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>           Gandalf sputtered. “Well, perhaps there are other reasons why Bilbo would be of great use to you—I mean, us.”</span>
</p><p> <span>Thorin glowered at him. “Such as?”</span></p><p> <span>“It doesn’t matter right now. I will arrange a meeting at his house, and you will bring members of the seven dwarf families who you’d like to take on your quest along to meet him too.”</span></p><p> <span>“He has already agreed to come along?” Thorin quirked an eyebrow. “I doubt that, if he is not a dwarf, he will not understand the importance of this quest.”</span></p><p> <span>“I assure you, Bilbo has agreed to come along. Trust me on this,” Gandalf assured him. “I will accompany you back to the Ered Luin in the morning, if you don’t mind, and will make my way to Hobbiton to inform Bilbo that you have agreed to a meeting.”</span></p><p>
  <span>           “I have not agreed, yet,” Thorin growled. “I do not see how an outsider should be trusted. My people do not need an outsider’s help.”</span>
</p><p> <span>“Do you not?” Gandalf raised an eyebrow. “Very well, I will hear your final answer in the morning. But I urge you to not make judgements before you meet my friend.”</span></p><p> <span>Thorin took a long drink of mead, and reached for his pipe as his thoughts raced.</span></p><p> <span>“You do not have ulterior motives?” He finally asked, looking Gandalf square in the eyes.</span></p><p> <span>Gandalf frowned. “No, no, of course not. Why would I have ulterior motives? I am simply trying to help.”</span></p><p> <span>Thorin found that very difficult to believe.</span></p>
<hr/><p>
  <span>To Bilbo’s relief, his evening had carried on peacefully, and he went out of his way to light some candles, wrap himself in his coziest robe and cook a delicious supper for himself. Everything was back to normal, Gandalf was far away now, hopefully bothering some other poor sod who might actually be daft enough to join him in an adventure. Bilbo grinned and hummed to himself as he set his plate on the table, sprinkling salt onto his fish.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And then the doorbell rang. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, bebother,” Bilbo grumbled. What kind of hobbit would go knocking on others’ doors right around supper time? Perhaps someone was making a delivery? Or was it Hamfast Gamgee working overtime again?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The doorbell rang again, followed by a violent knock as Bilbo scuttled to the door. “Yes, I’m coming, I’m coming!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He opened the door, and—well, it certainly wasn’t Hamfast. In fact, it wasn’t a hobbit at all. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It took everything in Bilbo to not slam the door shut. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>This stranger, with fierce eyes, tattoos on his bald head, and a long beard framing his jaw, towered over Bilbo in his doorway. A dwarf.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dwalin at your service,” the dwarf said in a low, gravelly voice, and bowed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bilbo let out a squeak, then frantically tied up his robe as he forced out the words: “Bilbo Baggins at yours.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The dwarf immediately stepped forward, and Bilbo held the door slightly closed. “D-do we know each other?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dwalin looked at him like he had mushrooms sprouting out of his ears. “No?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He pushed past Bilbo and stomped into Bag End, tracking mud all over the carpet. “Which way, laddie? Is it down here?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bilbo felt physically ill. “Is what down where?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Supper!” Dwalin tossed his heavy cloak at Bilbo, almost knocking him over. “He said there’d be food, and lots of it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He said? Who said?” Bilbo watched the dwarf stride down the hallway, continuing to track mud with his giant boots. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>There had to be some sort of mistake. He had the wrong house, certainly. Bilbo hung up his cloak and hurried to the kitchen to find Dwalin sitting at his table, helping himself to Bilbo’s supper. He gritted his teeth and forced a smile. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah, I see you’ve found it. Supper,” he said, shuffling over to sit on a stool and watch Dwalin with as much contempt as he could muster. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dwalin just nodded, crumbs stuck to his beard, salt all over the table. Bilbo gulped, and then something caught his eye. Shimmering words on the dwarf’s thick wrist, a pale greyish-blue that reminded Bilbo of moonlight, shining in plain sight.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Could it be…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bilbo felt his entire body freeze up. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>No, it could not be. He could not…no, never. Absolutely not.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Very good this. Any more?” Dwalin asked, spewing out bits of his last bite.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bilbo hastily grabbed a plate of scones he’d been saving for his own late night snack, making sure to hide one for himself before offering them to Dwalin. He leaned closer and peered at Dwalin’s wrist, his heart pounding as he read the words.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>He’s blushing. He’s a lot cuter up close.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hobbit?” Dwalin grumbled, glaring up at Bilbo threateningly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh! Are the blueberry lemon scones to your liking?” Bilbo squeaked, quickly stepping back, becoming quite cheerful with relief that the dwarf’s soulmark didn’t match his first impression of him at all.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dwalin continued to glare at him as he chewed, and then the doorbell rang. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’ll be the door,” he said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bilbo sighed, exasperated, and hurried to the front door again. And there, waiting on the other side, was a stout fellow with a snowy white beard.</span>
</p><p> <span>“Balin at your service!”</span></p><p> <span>“Good evening,” Bilbo replied flatly.</span></p><p> <span>“Yes, it is,” Balin said, gazing up at the night sky before stepping inside Bag End. “A very good evening. Though I think it might rain later.”</span></p><p> <span>Bilbo just stared at him in disbelief. Another dwarf showing up at his house unannounced? No, this had to be a joke.</span></p><p> <span>“Am I late?” Balin asked.</span></p><p> <span>“Late for what?”</span></p><p> <span>Balin was suddenly distracted by the sound of Dwalin trying to get his hand unstuck from Bilbo’s cookie jar, and Bilbo watched the two of them greet each other by bonking their foreheads together. No, no, this new dwarf was far too old to be Bilbo’s soulmate, right? Still, his gaze was fixated on Balin’s long sleeves, completely covering up his wrists.</span></p><p> <span>“Excuse me, sorry, I hate to interrupt,” Bilbo called out. “But the thing is, I’m not entirely sure you’re in the right house.”</span></p><p> <span>The two dwarves, who were apparently brothers, ignored him and continued on to the kitchen and began raiding Bilbo’s pantry.</span></p><p> <span>“It’s not that I don’t like visitors. I like visitors as much as the next hobbit,” Bilbo continued. “But I do like to know them before they come visiting.”</span></p><p> <span>A block of blue cheese went flying past Bilbo’s head.</span></p><p> <span>“The thing is, I don’t know either of you, not in the slightest. I don’t mean to be blunt but I had to speak my mind, I’m sorry.”</span></p><p> <span>Finally, Balin and Dwalin stopped talking and both turned to look at him. Balin smiled and nodded. “Apology accepted.”</span></p><p> <span>Bilbo dug his heels into the ground, watching the dwarves help themselves to Bilbo’s ale. Rude, pigheaded, overbearing—</span></p><p> <span>The doorbell rang again. Bilbo felt a glimmer of hope that perhaps whoever had actually invited these dwarves over might be at the door to claim them. For there couldn’t be more of them, could there be?</span></p><p> <span>Alas, when Bilbo opened the door, there were two more dwarves standing there, both of them clearly younger than the others. Bilbo let out a whimper.</span></p><p> <span>“Fili.”</span></p><p> <span>“And Kili.”</span></p><p> <span>“At your service.”</span></p><p> <span>The two of them bowed, and then the darker haired one grinned widely. “You must be Mr. Boggins!”          </span></p><p>
  <span>“Nope! You can’t come in, you’ve come to the wrong house!” Bilbo shut the door on them but the dark haired one stopped him.</span>
</p><p> <span>“What?! Has it been cancelled?” Kili looked absolutely distraught.</span></p><p> <span>“No one told us,” Fili said, glowering at Bilbo as if something was his fault.</span></p><p> <span>Bilbo could not believe how daft they were. “Cancelled? No, nothing’s been cancelled—”</span></p><p> <span>“Well, that’s a relief!” Kili exclaimed, and pushed right past Bilbo and marched inside, Fili following behind him acting like he owned the place.</span></p><p> <span>No, no, no. Bilbo thought to himself. Too young. And so rude!</span></p><p> <span>“It’s nice, this place! Did you do it yourself?” Kili asked.</span></p><p> <span>“Um, no, it’s been in the family for years and—that’s my grandmother’s glory box, can you please not do that?!” Bilbo shouted at Kili, his arms full of Fili’s weapons, as Kili wiped the mud off his boots. Terribly disgusting and rude indeed! All these years of avoiding dwarves for this very reason and now four of them had accidentally ended up in his house, none of which could possibly be Bilbo’s soulmate, so truly there was no reason for it all—</span></p><p> <span>“What are you doing to my dining room?” Bilbo shouted.</span></p><p> <span>“Let’s shove everything into this hole, or otherwise we’ll never get everyone in,” he overheard Balin saying.</span></p><p> <span>“Everyone?” Bilbo squeaked in horror. “How many more are there?”</span></p><p> <span>The doorbell rang again, and Bilbo’s patience had finally run thin.</span></p><p> <span>“Oh, no no no! Absolutely not! There’s nobody home!” Bilbo yelled, tossing Fili’s knives onto the floor. “Go away and bother somebody else! There’s far too many dwarves in my dining room as it is! If…if this is some clothead’s idea of a joke, I can only say, it is in very poor taste!”</span></p><p>
  <span>And this time, when Bilbo opened the door, a giant pile of dwarves fell into his front entry way. Bilbo could only stare in disbelief as they all cursed at each other, stumbling and fighting to find their footing. A cloaked figure stood behind them all, bending down to peer into the doorway, and Bilbo recognized him immediately.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Gandalf…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Chaos ensued as Bilbo counted a dozen dwarves in total, all roaming freely throughout his home, tracking mud all over the place with no regard for anything he was saying. And that old coot Gandalf looked entirely too cheerful and pleased.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, no, not my prize winners, thank you,” Bilbo growled as a dwarf passed by with a bowl of tomatoes. Left and right dwarves helped themselves to Bilbo’s food, wine, ale, and everything in between. They brought everything to his dining room and ravaged it all in a startlingly short period of time as Bilbo frantically attempted to clean up the mess of his house. He walked into his pantry to find it completely emptied, and the dwarves had the audacity to start belching violently after chugging their mugs of ale. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yavanna, help me,” Bilbo whispered, clenching his fists. Where was Gandalf? Pigging out at the table as well, he supposed. Bilbo would have </span>
  <em>
    <span>words </span>
  </em>
  <span>for him, and no doubt his mother was looking down at him and being reduced to tears from laughter. </span>
</p><p><span>Amidst the mayhem that followed after the dwarves finished their meal, Bilbo pushed through the crowd, grabbing doilies and various other items that should </span><em><span>not </span></em><span>in any circumstance</span> <span>be used to wash dishes from the dwarves surrounding him.</span></p><p>
  <span>“Bebother and confusticate these dwarves,” Bilbo growled.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“My dear Bilbo, what on earth is the matter?” Gandalf asked, peering down at him in amusement, pipe in his mouth.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s the matter?” Bilbo crossed his arms. “I am surrounded by dwarves. What are they doing here?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh they’re quite a merry gathering, once you get used to them.” Gandalf winked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t want to get used to them!” Bilbo snapped. “You must think this is all </span>
  <em>
    <span>very </span>
  </em>
  <span>funny, Gandalf, hm? Is this some sort of matchmaking game you’ve forced upon me? Find Bilbo’s dwarf soulmate, oh, how </span>
  <em>
    <span>entertaining! </span>
  </em>
  <span>Well, I’ll have you know that I am perfectly content on my own! I am not interested in a dwarf husband, not at all, and I never will be!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A loud knock sounded at the door, and all the laughter and noise ceased immediately. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He’s here,” Gandalf said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bilbo pinched the bridge of his nose. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Another bloody dwarf?</span>
  </em>
  <span> Gandalf rested a hand on Bilbo’s shoulder and offered to get the door, which Bilbo appreciated greatly. He had a pounding headache, and his stomach ached with hunger, he was grumpy and tired and done with all of this nonsense. All of the dwarves quietly followed Gandalf to the front entrance, and Bilbo trailed behind them, attempting to neat up some things along the way.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Gandalf,” he heard a deep voice say after Gandalf opened the door. “I thought this place would be easy to find. I lost my way, twice.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The voice was rather nice, Bilbo thought. He stopped cleaning and raised himself up on his tiptoes to see this person everyone had eagerly come to greet.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wouldn’t have found it at all if not for that mark on the door,” the dwarf finished saying.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mark?” Bilbo frowned, pushing past the dwarves blocking his way. “There’s no mark, that door was painted a week ago!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There is a mark, I put it there myself,” Gandalf grumbled, and then grinned down at Bilbo excitedly. “Bilbo Baggins, allow me to introduce the leader of our company: Thorin Oakenshield.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bilbo looked to where Gandalf was gesturing. This new dwarf, Thorin, had dark, raven hair that fell past his shoulders in waves, a sharp nose, a very short beard, and soft blue eyes that widened slightly when they met Bilbo’s.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Oh,</span>
  </em>
  <span> Bilbo thought. </span>
  <em>
    <span>He’s quite handsome, for a dwarf. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Thorin handed his cloak over to Kili when he realized who Gandalf was introducing him to. When the hobbit stepped forward, Thorin was met with surprise, and his jaw dropped slightly in a silent gasp.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Mahal, he’s hot.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He had soft, pliable features and striking green eyes--or were they brown? Perhaps a mix of both. His hair was almost golden, and a little unkempt, and his cheeks were pink and flushed. He did not look like a burglar at all, nor any sort of traveler or warrior. This hobbit was supposedly skilled, brave, and willing to help Thorin’s people on this quest, yet he looked so soft and small.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So, this is the hobbit,” is what came out of Thorin’s mouth as he continued to stare at Bilbo. Once he remembered where he was, who he was, and what he was doing, he drew himself up to his full height and circled around the hobbit, confirming that he looked as if he’d never done a hard day’s work in his life. “Tell me, Mr. Baggins, have you done much fighting?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Pardon me?” Bilbo asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Axe or sword? What’s your weapon of choice?” Thorin asked, crossing his arms and waiting keenly for Bilbo’s answer. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The hobbit smirked. “Well, I do have some skill at conkers, if you must know.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thorin narrowed his eyes at him. Did the halfling just </span>
  <em>
    <span>mock </span>
  </em>
  <span>him?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“...but I fail to see why that’s relevant,” the hobbit finished, suddenly unable to meet Thorin’s eye. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thought as much,” Thorin sighed, a little disappointed. He turned back to the other dwarves. “He looks more like a grocer than a burglar.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thorin smirked at Bilbo before leaving the room; the hobbit only scowled in confusion. Yes, this Mr. Baggins was quite comely at first glance, but he was not very impressive at all, and he had a feeling Gandalf was doing all of this for his own amusement. There was no way in Arda that Thorin would let this halfling join them on their quest, no matter how cute he may be.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Condescending prick.</span>
  </em>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Bilbo glowered at this </span>
  <em>
    <span>‘Thorin’</span>
  </em>
  <span> as he sauntered out of the room, all proud and pleased with himself after insulting Bilbo. Bilbo, who had been forced to host this huge gathering of dwarves without any warning or explanation, supposedly for Gandalf’s matchmaking nonsense, yet all of these dwarves were rude and disrespectful. Terribly demanding guests with no sense of respectability. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Especially </span>
  </em>
  <span>Thorin. What a shame, indeed! He didn’t seem so handsome anymore, and that was probably for the best. Gandalf was not going to win at this little game of his. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“It will be very good for you, and most amusing for me!”</span>
  </em>
  <span> Gandalf’s words echoed in Bilbo’s mind. Hah! Amusing indeed. The old wandering wizard must be terribly bored, and Bilbo should like to tell him to bugger off and stick to making magical fireworks instead.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>However, Bilbo, being a most respectable hobbit, straightened his suspenders and cleared his throat, following the dwarves and Gandalf to the dining room. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Bilbo, be a good lad and fetch some stew for Thorin,” Gandalf muttered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course!” Bilbo replied automatically, but stopped in his tracks on his way to the kitchen, clenching and unclenching his fists in an attempt to calm himself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The dwarves spoke in more hushed tones now, and Bilbo could hardly hear what they talked about from the kitchen. Likely the roads, the weather, and such. The atmosphere became much more solemn since Thorin arrived, which was the only thing Bilbo could be thankful for at the moment.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He begrudgingly slid the stew in front of Thorin and asked what he would like to drink.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Whatever is convenient,” Thorin replied without looking at him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bilbo wanted to tell him that nothing about this was convenient, but then he hurried off to fetch him a tankard of ale. Thorin did not utter a single ‘thank you’, either.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The dwarves went on to talk of some very intense business about a quest. Bilbo couldn’t help but be intrigued, as this entire event could be something straight out of one of the books he used to indulge in, but when it was revealed that Gandalf had hired Bilbo to come along as the company’s burglar without even asking him first, Bilbo had had enough. It was late, and he was exhausted and fed up, and he marched off to bed after telling Gandalf he’d got the wrong hobbit.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bilbo tossed and turned in bed. Whenever he closed his eyes or dozed off, he saw far off lands and handsome dwarf warriors that he daydreamed about in his tweens. He could hear his mum’s voice urging him to go on an adventure and see more of the world before he got too old. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>No,</span>
  </em>
  <span> Bilbo thought. </span>
  <em>
    <span>I am doing a good thing for myself. I am standing up to Gandalf, I am making the right decision. They will all be gone in the morning, leaving the Shire and traveling to an ancient, lost dwarven kingdom, lead by a ridiculously handsome dwarf with gorgeous blue eyes and—</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, confound it all,” Bilbo grumbled, sitting up and groaning into his hands. “He didn’t even thank you for the stew! He called you a grocer, he—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And then the sound reached Bilbo’s ears: singing. A deep voice, soft yet commanding, perfectly in tune, along with the strum of a harp, coming from the best bedroom in the house next to his. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thorin’s room.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bilbo fell asleep to the sound of Thorin Oakenshield singing of mountains, dungeons, and long-forgotten gold. The soulmark on his wrist cast a golden hue on the room, the words </span>
  <em>
    <span>Mahal, he’s hot</span>
  </em>
  <span> glowing brighter than usual. All of this gave Bilbo Baggins very uncomfortable dreams that may or may not have involved a certain dwarf leader and...other unrespectable, indecent things that a hobbit of his age should certainly not be dreaming of. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And when he awoke to find himself alone in his smial once again, his Tookish side won over the Baggins, and he found himself chasing after adventure and a very rude, self-important, but unfortunately handsome, dwarf.</span>
</p>
<hr/><p>
  <span>“Alright, here’s the master plan,” Kili whispered to Fili. “Next time we take a wash, I’ll pretend I dropped one of my most precious beads in the river. You know how Bilbo’s always hiding away from us, really likes his privacy y’know?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes,” Fili said, scowling. “Go on.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, I’ll just pretend to be looking for my bead and I’ll come to Bilbo with tears in my eyes, begging him to help look,” Kili continued, grinning wildly. “Then, since there’s no way a gentlehobbit like him will be able to refuse, I’ll get a glimpse of his soulmark while he’s distracted.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fili stroked his mustache braids. “Hmmm. Bilbo’s not daft, you know. He might’ve caught on by now, Ki.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, but this is why it’s the master plan,” said Kili. “Bilbo will be so flustered when I intrude on his washing, he’ll forget to cover up his mark.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fili blew out a smoke ring from his pipe. “I don’t know, Ki. We have to be careful. Maybe we should try something else out first? We could have a smoke with him, get him relaxed. The weather’s getting warmer, he might roll up his sleeves.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Isn’t that a little boring?” Kili sighed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This is why you have me. I think things through, unlike you,” Fili said. “It’ll be better if we try that plan before your ‘master’ plan. Don’t you think?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright, fine.” Kili cleared his throat, took a deep breath, and called. “Oi, Mister Boggins!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Kili!” Fili whispered scathingly. “Didn’t you listen to anything I said? We’re supposed to wait until—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shhh!” Kili nudged his brother. “He’s coming.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Evening, you two,” Bilbo said, a hint of suspicion in his lilting voice—but that was normal with Bilbo, especially whenever Fili and Kili were wanting to talk with him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Evening,” Kili said with a grin. “Would you like to join us?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bilbo narrowed his eyes at them. “Is this going to end up like last time?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Both Kili and Fili looked at each other before frowning at Bilbo in confusion.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What do you mean?” Kili asked dumbly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bilbo scoffed. “Last time you asked me some rather invasive questions.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, right,” Kili said quickly. “No reason to be suspicious of that. It’s just a dwarvish custom.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I never said I was suspicious,” Bilbo said, and paused. “Should I be?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No! Of course not,” both Fili and Kili said in unison. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oi! Burglar!” Nori called from the camp. “Bombur’s looking for you!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bilbo quickly apologized to Fili and Kili and took off back to camp. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Durin’s balls,” Fili cursed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kili leaned back against the tree behind the rock he was sitting on. “What if we just told him we’re trying to set him up with Uncle?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We can’t do that, that’d be toying with fate,” Fili said. “Imagine if Amad found out.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Amad isn’t here, and if Uncle somehow survives this whole thing and he comes back with both the mountain and a cute burglar-hobbit consort, she’ll have us to thank.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fili contemplated that for a moment, stroking his mustache again. “True, true. Let’s execute your master plan next. If that doesn’t work, we should work on getting Bilbo and Uncle talking more.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kili reached out to Fili and gave him a forehead bump. “We have our work cut out for us, Brother.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uncle is lucky to have us looking out for him and his love life, don’t you think?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Very lucky,” Kili said, and when he thought Fili wasn’t looking, he peered down at his own mark, shining like the moonlight that would soon be casting light over their campsite. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When would he meet his Beloved? The one who thought he was quite tall for a dwarf?</span>
</p>
<hr/><p>
  <span>Bombur watched Bilbo add some of the Shire salt he’d managed to pack for the road into the stew, as Bilbo mumbled incoherently to himself and hummed as he stirred the pot. It was fascinating to watch a hobbit cook, working quite slowly and carefully and making sure to taste test every few minutes to ensure perfection. Bombur’s way of cooking was a lot more like throwing a bunch of ingredients and spices into a pot and trusting himself to make it all taste magnificent in the end--and of course, it always did. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Would you like to try it? I believe it’s perfect for my taste, but we </span>
  <em>
    <span>are </span>
  </em>
  <span>cooking for mostly dwarves,” Bilbo said with a breathy laugh.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bombur obliged him and took the ladle from him, tasting some and smacking his lips together. “Ooh, that’s good.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bilbo sat up straighter. “Really? Can you taste the Shire salt?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can,” Bombur replied, raising his eyebrows, already spooning out a bowl. “I’ll have to visit the Shire again someday, learn more about hobbit cuisine.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, I’d like that,” Bilbo exclaimed. “We can visit the market and I’ll introduce you to the best places. Then we can spend a day cooking something for every meal.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sounds delightful,” Bombur said, and he truly meant it. “And once we reclaim Erebor and get the kitchens and stores up and running someday, I’d be happy to teach you more about dwarven cooking as well, if you’d like.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bilbo seemed to hesitate for a moment, then gave Bombur a flat smile. “I’d like that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bombur simply nodded; it seemed that Bilbo was just trying to be polite. Bombur took no offense--it was more likely that Bilbo simply didn’t think he’d survive the quest, as Bilbo had expressed a lot of interest in Bombur’s cooking before. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Could you pass me the spoons, there?” Bombur asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bilbo jumped a little. “Oh, of course.” He hopped up and grabbed the handful of wooden spoons.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When he handed them to Bombur, something golden glinted near Bilbo’s hands. Bombur’s gaze was immediately drawn to it, and lingered there before he realized what it was. He quickly took the spoons from Bilbo and thanked him, turning his attention back to the stew and fumbling a little bit as he collected his thoughts.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He had seen Bilbo’s soulmark, and he had read the words. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bilbo was hastily buttoning up his sleeves, and he hurried away to the back of the line before Bombur could think to offer him his bowl of stew first. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oh dear. Bombur felt awful.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There wasn’t anything else to do. Bombur banged a spoon on the edge of the pot and called out to the company. “Stew’s ready.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Stew’s ready, lads!” Bofur called out louder, and was the first to line up; he tended to always linger near Bombur when he was cooking.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He narrowed his eyes at Bombur as he spooned out his stew, and when he handed him his bowl, Bofur continued to stand there, smiling slyly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?” Bombur asked bluntly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bofur looking behind him at the line of dwarves. Bifur was behind him, patiently waiting.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You saw it. Bilbo’s mark,” he whispered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bombur shook his head. “Nope.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes you did, brother,” Bofur said pointedly, that glint of mischief in his eyes. “Nori and I both saw you look.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Doesn’t mean I read it,” Bombur said. “Now move along, the company’s hungry.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’ll weasel it out of you,” Bofur said in a sing-song voice, and then took off to go whisper something to Nori down the line. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bombur just sighed and shook his head and continued to dish out stew for everyone. Nori said nothing, but Bombur expected an interrogation after supper. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Indeed, Bombur saw, very clearly, that Bilbo’s mark said </span>
  <em>
    <span>Mahal, he’s hot.</span>
  </em>
  <span> The poor lad. Bombur wished he could forget it, as he knew how hard Bilbo tried to hide it, and Bombur never had any interest in knowing it. Something about Thorin’s mark made the dwarves suspect that Bilbo could be his soulmate, and yes, if Bombur paid attention he could sense some sort of connection between the two despite the fact that they seemed to avoid each other. But he knew Yavanna and Mahal would do their job and fate would win in the end. Though the sun and moon were different, they were also the same, shining their light in different ways; one could not be whole without the other.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was still a long journey ahead, and much could happen.</span>
</p>
<hr/><p>
  <span>“Uncle, what do you think of Bilbo?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Or, rather, what </span>
  <em>
    <span>did </span>
  </em>
  <span>you think of Bilbo?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Right, what was your first impression of Bilbo?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The two of you will take the middle watch tonight,” Thorin snapped. “Now go scout ahead for our next rest stop.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He watched his nephews groan and mutter to each other as they jogged ahead of the group. This wasn’t the first time Thorin had been questioned about his regard toward the burglar; even Gandalf had conversed with him in hushed tones about how Bilbo was a very good fellow who enjoyed learning about history, and that Thorin should tell him some stories about dwarven culture and what growing up in Erebor was like. Thorin of course, gently refused, because Mr. Baggins certainly did not seem interested in dwarven culture at all. In fact, he seemed much more interested in Elves, and every time he overheard the hobbit mention those pointy-eared pricks, Thorin felt some sort of deep rooted anger he’d never felt before.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mr. Baggins seemed to get along well with Ori, Balin, and Bombur. He stuck closely to those three, and constantly avoided eye contact with Thorin. Sometimes Bilbo would be sitting away from the company at night smoking his pipe, and Thorin would join him several feet away, trying to look as open as possible to conversations or questions about dwarven culture. But Bilbo would only look away, shift uncomfortably, and would usually hurry back to rest of the company.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It did not bother Thorin that Mr. Baggins disliked him, because Thorin disliked him back. How funny it was to think about how he’d thought the hobbit to be...very pleasing to the eyes when he first met him. Come to think of it, Thorin couldn’t remember the last time he properly </span>
  <em>
    <span>looked </span>
  </em>
  <span>at Mr. Baggins. What had he seen in him? His interests had immediately been smothered when the hobbit stated that he wasn’t a burglar and fainted at the mention of a dragon--not to mention when he almost made the entire company turn around when he forgot his handkerchief. Truly, Mr. Baggins never should have joined them on this quest, and Thorin dreaded having to live with the guilt and blame when the hobbit would inevitably perish once the road got more dangerous. Yes, he had told Gandalf he couldn’t guarantee Mr. Baggins’ safety, nor would he be responsible for his fate, but he was legally part of Thorin’s Company.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A word, Thorin.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>As if Thorin had summoned him with his thoughts, Gandalf appeared at his side and Thorin quickened his pace.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What is it?” Thorin asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gandalf cleared his throat. “I would like to speak to you about—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If this is about Mr. Baggins, I have nothing to say on the matter.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gandalf frowned down at him. “I was going to ask if you’ve thought about my suggestion of seeking refuge in Rivendell.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh,” Thorin grunted, and his scowl deepened. He really had not thought about it at all. “I am still against it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Even after that business with the trolls?” Gandalf exclaimed. “If you don’t agree on going to Rivendell, I will leave the company.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Will you?” Thorin raised an eyebrow. “Go, then. We can handle the rest of the journey on our own.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thorin!” Gandalf sputtered. “You have no idea what lies ahead.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“True, it’s difficult to predict,” Thorin said. “But I don’t believe you will abandon our quest, not after you worked so hard to make it happen.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gandalf just let out a sigh that sounded more like a growl, and began to walk away, but he quickly came back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, since you brought him up first, how about progress with Bilbo, then? Have you even spoken to him yet?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Progress?” Thorin grumbled. “Why must I speak to him? He is here to do one job and earn his share of the treasure. He’s made it very clear he does not care about Erebor, or befriending me for that matter.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, save me from the stubbornness of dwarves.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gandalf quickened his pace after that, calling after Fili and Kili who were already out of sight--and Thorin could only imagine what the three of them would be discussing. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thorin had kept his soulmark well hidden and secret; only Dis and Dwalin knew of it, but his fear grew with each passing day, after increasing harassment circling around the topic of Mr. Baggins, that Fili and Kili had somehow found out, as well as Gandalf. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Well, it all seemed ridiculous for them to assume Mr. Baggins could be matched to him. Yes, Thorin had wondered, because he already knew his soulmate could not be a dwarf, but it was clear that Mr. Baggins did not think him handsome nor did he like him at all. Perhaps they should be bothering Mr. Baggins, then? Surely once they found out what his soulmark said, if he even had one, they would realize he and Thorin were not soulmates, and all of this nonsense would end.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then it struck him: he would have to take it upon himself to find out what Mr. Baggins’ soulmark said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He would speak to him at camp tonight. </span>
</p>
<hr/><p>
  <span>Thorin was glaring at him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bilbo tried to keep his eyes on his stew, but he could feel the heat from Thorin’s anger burning a hole in his forehead. He could barely enjoy eating because the Asshole Under the Mountain had not taken his eyes off of him for the past several minutes. Bilbo’s mind raced, trying to think of what on Earth he could have possibly done to deserve this kind of treatment. He always stayed out of Thorin’s way and tried his best to be respectful, since he was the leader after all, and it seemed that Thorin did the same. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>So what was this all about? And why did Bilbo care so much? He had become used to receiving glares from certain hobbits or relatives over the years, and had learned to ignore them, but he was letting Mr. Oakenshield get the better of him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Balin,” Bilbo muttered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, laddie?” Balin turned to him with an encouraging smile.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Um. May I ask you something?” Bilbo leaned closer to him. “Why is Thorin glaring at me? Did I do something wrong?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Balin immediately looked up at Thorin, and Bilbo made the mistake of doing the same. Thorin blinked, uncrossed his arms, and continued eating his stew. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s his resting face,” Balin said with a grin. “I’da thought you would’ve known that by now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He just stopped when you looked at him, though,” Bilbo said, and his gaze flickered to Thorin again; their eyes met for a split second before they both turned away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, laddie,” Balin chuckled, and raised his eyebrows pointedly. “I believe he wants to speak with you. That, or he likes the view. Could be both.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bilbo sputtered and choked on his stew.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bofur clapped him on the back from his other side. “Uh oh! Down the hatch!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bilbo wheezed and coughed, struggling to catch his breath, and then loud footsteps approached right in front of him. Still red in the face, Bilbo looked up to see Thorin standing in front of him, arms crossed, scowl deepened.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Master Baggins. I must speak with you on some important business,” he said in his deep, gruff, unnecessarily attractive voice.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh,” Bilbo squeaked, and cleared his throat. “Right, of course.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His voice was still very hoarse from his coughing fit, and he could feel his cheeks burning; he got to his feet, brushed off his coat, and placed his stew down.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>All eyes were on them as Bilbo followed Thorin to the cliff several feet away from camp. Once out of ear shot, Bilbo decided to speak first.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thorin,” he said. “I don’t mean to be rude, but if you wanted to speak with me, you could have waited until I finished my stew. Or, perhaps, given me a moment to catch my breath.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thorin stopped in his tracks and looked back at Bilbo, raising an eyebrow. “My apologies, it was not my intent to interrupt your supper.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bilbo glowered at the back of his head once he turned around again. “All I’m saying is this better be important. You haven’t spoken to me since the unexpected party.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, today I am changing that,” Thorin said, still walking ahead.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hm. I am all astonishment.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bilbo could only think about the stew he had not been able to enjoy, and was probably going to get eaten by someone else, unless Balin was kind enough to save it for him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Finally Thorin stopped at the cliff, and he turned to Bilbo. Their eyes met for only a second before Thorin looked away, gazing out at the night sky instead.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well?” Bilbo asked, his tone a little more impatient than he intended.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thorin hesitated for a while, then pulled out his pipe. “Would you be interested in learning how to properly wield a sword, Master Baggins?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bilbo stared at him. “That’s what was so important?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Indeed, it’s very important,” said Thorin. “The road will become more dangerous, soon, and your wits can’t save you every time.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I beg to differ!” Bilbo snapped. “I can handle myself, thank you very much.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If you want to be a member of this company, you must be able to defend yourself,” Thorin growled. “Our quest will be in vain if we lose our burglar.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Right, of course,” Bilbo said with the most sarcastic sweetness he could muster. “My only value to the company is that I’m supposed to steal some jewel. My life isn’t important at all, of course. Right, how could I forget?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thorin’s nostrils flared, and then Bilbo got the full force of his booming voice. “Why else would you have come on this quest? This is deeply important to my people. You would never understand.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bilbo clenched his hands into fists, turning to walk away, but he couldn’t help but have the last word. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Perhaps I could try to understand, if you weren’t so bloody rude.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He stormed back to camp, avoiding eye contact with everyone, and waved away Balin when he offered him the rest of his stew. Bilbo marched straight to his bedroll without another word.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He wanted to go home.</span>
</p>
<hr/><p>
  <span>It was safe to say that Thorin would never be friends with Mr. Baggins, nor did he wish to be. They had not spoken since the conversation that went terribly wrong several weeks ago. Now, the company had been in Rivendell of one week--far too long. Mr. Baggins was the happiest he had ever been, surrounded by tree-shagging Elves, food, books, a proper mattress, and music. Thorin had never seen him so damn happy. Smiling all the time, wearing those special fancy clothes the Elves had made for him, charming all of them with his little songs, tales, and witty jokes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The hobbit almost seemed to glow. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thorin shook himself out of his thoughts, realizing he had been staring at Mr. Baggins again during evening festivities. Thorin was standing off to the side, his arms crossed, Dwalin next to him, and--</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thorin?” Dwalin nudged him. “Did you hear anything I just said?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thorin cleared his throat. “Of course. I agree, I can’t stand these unsavoury parties, it’s as if they’re trying to show off, and—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dwalin let out a long, exasperated sigh. “Thorin, I was telling you my plan to get us out of here. To sneak out during the night.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh.” Thorin nodded. “Go on, then.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dwalin rolled his eyes, then continued to explain again, but Thorin was quickly distracted when he heard his own name escape Mr. Baggins’ lips from across the room.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah yes, Thorin can play the harp,” he was saying, and craned his neck to look around for him. “I shall fetch him. He’s not very fond of me, but I’ve had a bit to drink, and I’m curious to hear him play.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thorin turned to Dwalin. “I have to go.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“For Durin’s sake, were you even listening?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thorin bolted out of the room, and it wasn’t until he was halfway back to their sleeping quarters that he wondered why he had run away. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He stripped down to his tunic, and the white moonlight shone down on the sentence on his wrist, brightening the silver words as if to taunt him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Perhaps he was afraid of his growing fascination with Mr. Baggins. Perhaps he preferred to stay away from him and watch from afar, for he knew he would ruin any chance at conversation like he had that one night. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Most terrifying of all was that he felt as though his heart was hoping for something impossible and unreachable, and he did not know how to stop it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Perhaps it would be best if Mr. Baggins stayed behind in Rivendell.</span>
</p>
<hr/><p>
  <span>Bilbo tossed and turned during another sleepless night, the cave was eerie and cold, the dwarves’ snores buzzed relentlessly in his ears. Yet Thorin’s harsh words still echoed over and over in his head, and Bilbo was still shaken over almost falling off the cliff—which Thorin had almost died saving him from.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He had made such a mess of things, complicated everything, slowed them all down and almost got them killed twice. Bilbo shouldn’t have left Rivendell, nor should he have left Gandalf. Gandalf had been the one who insisted the dwarves take him along on the quest, but now that he wasn’t with them, Bilbo felt like he wouldn’t last long anyways. Ever since they had left the Shire, Bilbo had dreams about waking up all alone, the dwarves taking off without waking him. Now that seemed more likely than ever, and Bilbo couldn’t say he’d blame them. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Why hadn’t he just stayed away from dwarves? It had been easy enough all these long years.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Checking that all of the company were as asleep as they sounded, he rolled up his bedroll, strapped it to his backpack, grabbed his walking stick and started toward the mouth of the cave. This was it. He would finally do it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His heart pounded, knowing it would be a dangerous path ahead, but he had his dear letter-opener and had been forced to take some lessons with it from Fili and Kili. Once he made it past those stone giants, he’d be back in Elrond’s protection. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was doing the right thing. He had found a second home in Rivendell. Yes, that was it. He liked it even better than the Shire. Perhaps he would retire there someday. A smile spread on his face at the thought, chasing away the burning feeling of regret that was eating at him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Where do you think you’re going?” Bofur exclaimed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bilbo willed himself not to faint. How had he not even thought about someone being on nightwatch duty? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He gripped his walking stick tighter and looked Bofur in the eyes. “Back to Rivendell.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No,” Bofur gasped, and scrambled to his feet. “You can’t turn back now. You’re part of the company, you’re one of us!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, I’m not now, am I,” Bilbo said, and it wasn’t a question. “Thorin said I should never have come and he was right. I’m not a Took, I’m a Baggins, I don’t know what I was thinking.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bofur furrowed his brow in deep concern. “Well, I’m glad you’re here, for one, and I know Bombur likes you a lot, and so does—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bilbo shook his head, feeling a lump rising in his throat. “It doesn’t matter. Thorin doesn’t want me here, and I’m making everything worse rather than helping. Gandalf was wrong about me, I’m not cut out for this, and there’s no use for me here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bofur sighed. “No, no, Bilbo. Remember the trolls?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That mess was all my fault, if you recall,” Bilbo said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But—” Bofur stopped and contemplated that for a moment.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I shouldn’t have ever run out my door,” Bilbo said thickly, looking down at his feet.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bofur gasped as if he’d had a revelation. “You’re homesick! I understand.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No you don’t!” Bilbo exclaimed, still trying to keep his voice low. “You don’t understand, none of you do, you’re dwarves!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He should’ve stopped there, but he was riled up, exhausted, and hungry, and needed to get this off his chest. “You’re used to this life, to living on the road, never settling in one place, not belonging anywhere!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bofur looked as if he’d been wounded, and Bilbo’s last words hung in the air. The lump in his throat was back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I-I’m sorry, I didn’t—” He stopped himself, clearing his throat and wishing the ground would open up and swallow him whole.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, you’re right. We don’t belong anywhere,” Bofur said softly, looking back at all the sleeping dwarves. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bilbo sighed and looked out at the company as well. His chest was tight and his heart ached, and some unseen force wanted to pull him back and stop him from leaving. He knew what he needed to do, and even if it was not necessarily the best choice for himself, it would be best for the company in the end...and for Thorin.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Bilbo,” Bofur said, stepping closer. “Before you go, can I ask you one thing?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course,” Bilbo said, a tad hesitantly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bofur leaned closer, then looked down. Bilbo followed his gaze to see Bofur rolling up his sleeve.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Could we check if we’re soulmates? Just in case,” Bofur said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Bofur,” Bilbo coughed. “I don’t think—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Please just do this, for my peace of mind.” Bofur had never looked so serious before.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bilbo let out a long sigh, closing his eyes. “Alright.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He leaned his walking stick against the wall of the cave and began to unbutton the sleeve of his red coat, then stopped himself. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know, Bofur, this is reminding me of a situation that happened when I was very young,” he said, wagging his finger at him. “I believe you’re trying to trick me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bofur gulped. “No! No, why would I do that?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bilbo buttoned up his sleeve again. “Thought so! I’m not as daft as you lot think I am. I know what you’re trying to--”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wait, Bilbo,” Bofur said, his eyes going wide as he looked down at Bilbo’s wrist.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good luck on your quest,” Bilbo said, snatching his walking stick again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Your letter opener!” Bofur whispered, pointing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bilbo looked down, and sure enough, a blue glow was peaking out of the hilt of his sword. He reached down and slowly began to unsheath it, and sure enough…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The ground shook, and Bilbo stumbled forward. Thorin immediately bellowed “Wake up!” and not a moment later, the ground opened up and swallowed all of them whole.</span>
</p>
<hr/><p>
  <span>They had lost their burglar.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mr. Baggins was nowhere to be found.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And in that moment, he thought about how Mr. Baggins was about to leave during the night before all of this happened. Thorin’s heart had never hurt as much as it had while he lay there listening to the hobbit’s words to Bofur. He felt strangely torn, torn between wanting him to stay or go. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thorin had risked his life to save him from falling off that cliff. He hadn’t thought twice about it--a member of his company was in danger, so he put their life before his own. What he had said was true: Mr. Baggins had been lost ever since he left his home. The road was already becoming more perilous, and Thorin had already had a bad feeling that Mr. Baggins wouldn’t make it very far. What would have become of the company and the quest if Thorin really had died saving him?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And now the hobbit had got himself lost in the goblin tunnels, and probably killed by now. Before, Thorin wasn’t sure if he wanted Mr. Baggins to leave...but now he was sure he had wanted him to stay. For no other reason than to give Thorin some sliver of hope that this quest could be completed, that an outsider other than Gandalf (who had his own selfish reasons for putting this quest into motion) could care about their quest, and see the importance of it. But no; once again, the dwarves had been abandoned by an outsider. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Why did this hurt so much? It was as if a dagger had pierced his heart, and his stomach was hollow with the all-too familiar feeling of loss and failure, but this was much worse than ever before--as if he’d been torn in two. Thorin’s anger began to bubble inside him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think I saw him slip away when they first collared us,” Nori chimed in.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What happened, exactly? Tell me,” Gandalf bellowed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll tell you what happened,” Thorin growled. “Master Baggins saw his chance and he took it! He’s thought of nothing but his soft bed and his warm hearth since first he stepped out of his door. We will not be seeing our hobbit again. He is long gone.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was as if he needed to tell it to himself, to believe it and accept it, and move on. Mr. Baggins had done nothing but slow them down, had he not? Perhaps he had managed to escape and would at least find his way back safely, back to his cozy well-furnished hobbit hole; Thorin would have to believe that, to keep himself from being overcome by the wave of guilt that began to wash over him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, he isn’t!” A familiar voice sounded behind him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A chorus of cheers erupted when everyone realized that Bilbo Baggins was suddenly standing in front of them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thorin’s stomach dropped. When everyone asked how Mr. Baggins had gotten past the goblins, Gandalf said it didn’t matter. But then Thorin stepped forward.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It matters,” he said. “Why did you come back?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And then Bilbo Baggins took a step forward and proceeded to give Thorin the most heartfelt, honest, and adorable speech he’d ever heard in his life. He cared. The hobbit cared about the quest, and he cared about Thorin reclaiming his home. Mr. Baggins wasn’t doing this for the reward...he came back because he wanted to help Thorin—or, well, all of them—return home.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thorin went through utter turmoil right then and there, because the hobbit stood there with the setting sun creating a halo around his head and turning his hair golden, and his gaze was locked on Thorin’s as if they were the only two people standing in this accursed forest. His eyes were a lovely shade of amethysts at the moment, and Thorin found himself wondering what Bilbo’s favourite gems were, so he could adorn him in them and… oh, sweet Mahal, was he ever hot.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And then the thrice-damned wargs and the creature that Thorin hated more than any being on this Earth, even more than Smaug, just </span>
  <em>
    <span>had </span>
  </em>
  <span>to show up after Thorin had believed him to be dead for half his life. Everything was a blur after that, including the flash of a red coat leaping in front of him and tackling an orc before everything went dark.</span>
</p>
<hr/><p>
  <span>What on Yavanna's good green earth had just happened?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bilbo had certainly had...a </span>
  <em>
    <span>day, </span>
  </em>
  <span>to say the least. Currently, his head was spinning and his stomach was dropping as he was carried through the air on a giant eagle’s back, but all he cared about was that Thorin lay unconscious and possibly </span>
  <em>
    <span>dead </span>
  </em>
  <span>in another eagle’s talons.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He did not know how it happened; all he could remember was something very Tookish and brave came over him when he saw Thorin in grave danger, and he had no choice but to throw himself into an orc to save him. Perhaps it was to repay him for risking his life to help him not plummet off that cliff? </span>
</p><p> <span>Well, perhaps it was no secret to anyone how he felt anymore, after that speech he gave when he returned to Thorin—er, the company—after escaping the goblin tunnels. He had not found them just by good luck or chance; he could literally feel Thorin, and was led to Thorin, by a faint golden light coming from his soulmark. And that was when Bilbo Baggins realized he needed to stop being so oblivious and stupid, and try to see Thorin in a different light. And when he saw Thorin again, looking at him so softly and tenderly, Bilbo realized that Thorin really was very handsome for a dwarf. No, very handsome in general! In fact, he was the handsomest being Bilbo had ever seen, and Bilbo finally realized that Thorin could truly be his soulmate, the one who thought he was hot upon first glance!</span></p><p>
  <span>Now his potential soulmate was probably dead, and Bilbo was both angry and terrified. He wanted to shout at the eagle for carrying him so carelessly, but his own eagle dove down toward a landing before he actually opened his mouth. Bilbo held on for dear life, and as soon as the eagle touched down, Bilbo approached the spot where Thorin now lay on his own.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gandalf hurried past him and knelt in front of Thorin, muttered something, and Thorin’s eyes fluttered open; Bilbo sighed in relief, and all at once he felt every exhausted, hungry, and sore part of his body and he wanted to collapse on the spot.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s alright, Bilbo is here,” Gandalf said, turning back to give Bilbo the most smug and suggestive look he’d ever seen.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thorin had asked about him? Had he seen him attack the orc? Oh dear...</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You.” Thorin’s growly, commanding voice broke through the tense silence as he was helped to his feet, and he was looking right at Bilbo. “What were you doing?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bilbo scowled, lost for words.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You nearly got yourself killed,” Thorin breathed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Well, yes? So did you, you great galumphing genius, and I rescued you!</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did I not say you would be a burden?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oh, so we’re doing this, now? Now you’re mad at me for saving your life? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That you would never survive in the wild? And that you had no place amongst us.” Thorin was coming closer and closer, and Bilbo just looked down at his feet. He didn’t have it in him right now to even argue or try to have the last word. Thorin could go ahead and tell him to leave, now, if he really—</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I have never been so wrong in all my life.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When Thorin hugged him, Bilbo felt all of his ailments melt away as he was wrapped in his warmth. It was as if a fire had been lit inside him, and everything in the world felt right, and everything seemed to fit as if his entire life had been leading him here. The strange force that had been causing him strain had finally been released, just like the relief that Thorin wasn’t about to send him home.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Maybe Thorin felt the same pull as Bilbo? Maybe he had come to a realization too, after being apart…?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When Thorin pulled away from the hug, continuing to hold onto Bilbo’s arms and checking him for any injuries, Bilbo could only stare at him. He wanted to jump his bones then and there.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I am sorry I doubted you,” Thorin said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, I would’ve doubted me too,” Bilbo blurted, because at this point Thorin could tell Bilbo he was a useless lump of a hobbit and he would simply agree. “I’m not a hero, or a warrior...not even a burglar.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thorin, for the first time ever, actually smiled at him. And Bilbo smiled back, although it may have looked like more of a panicked grimace, because he did not know how to act anymore. He had feelings for Thorin.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After what felt like minutes of staring into Thorin’s eyes as he looked at Bilbo with so much adoration that he felt his ears get hot, Thorin began to gaze past him, into the distance.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bilbo turned around to see a lonely mountain in the distance. “Is that what I think it is?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He followed Thorin to the edge of the cliff, watching him look out into the sunset with great pride and hope.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Erebor. The Lonely Mountain. The last of the great dwarf kingdoms of Middle Earth,” Gandalf announced majestically. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Our home,” Thorin added in awe.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bilbo thought he was being discreet when he looked at Thorin instead of the horizon, but Thorin looked at him at the same time; Bilbo let out a small gasp, his heart sped up with both panic and excitement, and he hastily looked at his feet and wondered if this was what it felt like when you realize your life has changed forever.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A good omen.</span>
</p>
<hr/><p>
  <span>“Bilbo has to be Thorin’s soulmate. Have you seen the way they stare at each other? They’re perfect together, and we’ve been right all along,” Fili said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well it’s takin’ them an awful lot of time to figure that out themselves, it seems,” Bofur said, rolling his eyes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thorin obviously thinks Bilbo is hot, just like the soulmark says,” Ori chimed in out of nowhere. All heads turned to him, where he was doodling something in his journal.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Who’s soulmark?” Nori snapped. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ori sighed and shut his journal. “Bilbo’s soulmark says </span>
  <em>
    <span>‘Mahal, he’s hot’,</span>
  </em>
  <span> alright? Who else in all of Arda would be thirsty for a hobbit the moment he laid eyes on him?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kili scowled. “I mean, Bilbo is handsome and cute, and he’s got a nice bottom, but—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Kili, please,” Fili interrupted, then hurried over to crouch in front of Ori. “How long have you known what Bilbo’s soulmark says? If that’s true then...that basically confirms that his soulmate is Uncle Thorin!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Since Rivendell,” Ori said smugly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ori, Fili, Kili, Bofur, and Nori were hiding out in the forest having their very intense discussion, when they heard heavy footsteps approaching.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah, evening Uncle,” Kili said quickly. “Care to join us? We’re just playing a little bit of—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Everyone on your feet, we have to move out,” Thorin commanded. “Bilbo spotted some of Azog’s company, they’re already on our trail.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, alright,” Kili said, scrambling to his feet as the others packed up. “Speaking of Bilbo, do you think he’s hot?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thorin turned and marched away with angry strides. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, he definitely does,” Fili said. “Remember when he first met Bilbo and called him a grocer?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And the way he circled around him, checking him out and smirking at him?” Kili snickered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’d be shocked if he isn’t giving him courting gifts by the time we reach the mountain,” Fili snorted.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They watched Bilbo hurry up to Thorin to report something to him, and Thorin placed his arm on Bilbo’s elbow in concern as he towered over the little hobbit. They were a perfect fit, always communicating without needing words, having a silent respect for each other and Bilbo always being at Thorin’s side whenever he was needed. The two of them were leading the company together, whether they realized it or not. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can they just shag already?” Nori remarked loudly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What was that?” Thorin snapped.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Never mind that, we’ve got to get out of here,” Bilbo said, beckoning the dwarves to move faster. “Come on, Gandalf says he knows a safe place for us to hide out.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If only they’d stop being so damn stubborn,” Ori sighed before Dori ran up to collect him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The poor lads, meeting each other during a quest that’s basically a suicide mission,” Bofur remarked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“All the more reason they need to shag,” Kili said. “I won’t let Uncle die without shagging his hobbit first. We have to make this happen!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And then they were all on the run again, and Bilbo discovered a giant menacing bear that chased all of them into a huge cottage that turned out to be the residence of said bear. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>That night, they were all on guard, without much of a chance to make anything happen, but Kili saw Bilbo nestle into the hay next to Thorin, their swords resting side by side behind them. Perhaps if they stayed here long enough, the two idiots might come to some realizations on their own.</span>
</p>
<hr/><p>
  <span>Three days had passed since they began their stay at Beorn’s, and Bilbo could not stand it anymore. Bilbo pretended to be asleep, as he usually did, and Thorin got up to go outside when he couldn’t sleep, as he usually did. This time Bilbo decided to follow him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He tread lightly and found Thorin sitting on a bench, smoking his pipe and looking out at the sea of stars, bathed in moonlight. Something swelled in Bilbo’s chest, and he took a deep breath and marched forward, smiling when Thorin blinked up at him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Lovely evening, isn’t it?” Bilbo remarked and pulled out his pipe. “Mind if I join you? I’m having trouble sleeping as well.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not at all,” Thorin said, his voice a low scrape. Bilbo could feel Thorin’s eyes on him as he packed his pipe and sat down only a few inches away from Thorin, close enough that their shoulders might brush accidentally.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I feel I don’t really want to move on from this place,” Bilbo said, finally breaking the silence between them. “I quite like it here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thorin grunted in response, blew a very impressive smoke ring, then said “You like Beorn, it seems.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bilbo quirked an eyebrow at him. “Well, yes, he’s a very interesting and pleasant fellow once you get to know him. Don’t you think?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thorin only grunted again, and Bilbo chuckled nervously. “I guess that’s a ‘no’, then. Well, you have to admit he makes delicious honey cakes, and his home is quite cozy.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thorin exhaled for a long time and leaned back. “It’s peaceful here, yet I still feel unrest. When I do find sleep, my dreams are troubled, and I find I can’t relax.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is it because you’re anxious to make it home?” Bilbo asked softly. “I know you don’t enjoy staying in one place for a long time.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s part of it, I suppose,” Thorin said, then turned to look into Bilbo’s eyes. “Bilbo...I’m afraid. I’ve come face to face with an evil creature I thought I killed many years ago, the same creature that killed my grandfather and brother. And as we get closer to the mountain, I feel as though something lurks in the shadows around me, and it’s getting harder to ignore.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bilbo blinked at him, trying to keep his gaze steady as he looked into those wonderful blue eyes. “Oh dear. Of course you’re afraid, in that case. That’s rather troubling.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bilbo was never good at comforting anyone, and now he wished more than anything that he could comfort Thorin.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I suppose I’m not helping much by disturbing you out here,” Bilbo laughed sheepishly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Just when he moved to stand and leave Thorin alone, a thick hand gripped onto his wrist—</span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span> wrist—and kept him from moving.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Stay,” Thorin said, his voice commanding but soft. “Your presence tends to distract me from the shadows.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh,” Bilbo squeaked, and cleared his throat. “Well, in that case. I suppose I’ll stay.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thorin gulped. “Only if you wish to, of course. I would never force anything—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, no, I’m quite happy to stay here,” Bilbo said, and scooched just a little closer to stop himself from shivering in the cool night air. “I suppose I’m glad to hear my presence helps a little, though I’m not sure why.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As they sat together, Bilbo couldn’t help but imagine them sitting together on his bench in front of Bag End, sharing a pipe and perhaps holding hands. As he wished to do right now.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And then he became very aware of the fact that Thorin was still holding his wrist. Bilbo peered down, seeing the golden light peeking out between Thorin’s fingers as if it was trying to escape. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I have been a fool,” Thorin said suddenly. “I do not know why I pushed you away before the Carrock. I still regret the terrible things I said to you before.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, please, let’s not talk about that right now,” Bilbo huffed. “It’s all in the past.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thorin let out a deep sigh, and then froze slightly. Bilbo could see that Thorin had noticed the golden light coming from Bilbo’s wrist, and in a panic, Bilbo pushed his sleeve down and clasped Thorin’s hand before he could see his soulmark.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s funny, you know,” Bilbo said quickly, his words speeding up as his heart rate did. “My first impression of you was that you were quite handsome for a dwarf, and soon after you opened your mouth, well, I didn’t think you were so handsome anymore. But now, well, I think you’re very handsome. And I have no idea why I’m telling you this, maybe it’s just to say that I think well of you, and there are no hard feelings of any sort, and I very much enjoy spending time with you and—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Bilbo,” Thorin said, and grasped Bilbo’s hand tight as he turned slightly to face him more. “May I see your wrist?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bilbo’s breath hitched. “Oh goodness.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He had done it on purpose, of course, bring up his first impression of Thorin, but now he was faced with this awful situation once again. This could either end in ridicule, to end all the hopes and dreams that had been building up in his mind and heart against his will once he and Thorin had become closer, or something good could come out of it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>This would be the last time he showed someone his soulmark, and he was sure of it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry,” Thorin said, letting go of Bilbo's hand to fiddle with one of the beads adorning his braids instead. “I just thought…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll show you,” Bilbo said, taking a deep breath and sitting up straight. “Only if you show me yours as well.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thorin seemed to freeze for a moment, going pale, but then he nodded quickly. “I promise.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Together, then?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, together.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The air seemed to still, and the moon beamed down at them as they both revealed their wrists to each other. Both shone so brightly it was almost blinding, Bilbo’s like sunlight and Thorin's like moonlight.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Once they had both read the words on each other’s wrists, they slowly looked back up at each other. Bilbo gulped, and Thorin’s lips were parted in a silent gasp. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You truly thought I was handsome?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You thought I was </span>
  <em>
    <span>hot? </span>
  </em>
  <span>What does that even mean?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They both broke into laughter, and Bilbo felt as if he could sing, or fly into the stars, or kiss Thorin right then and there.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Apparently Thorin was thinking the same thing, because at that moment, he pulled Bilbo close and kissed his forehead, his thumb gently brushing over Bilbo’s lips.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can’t believe, all along—” Bilbo started to say, but Thorin interrupted him with a kiss. His heart swelled, his cheeks heated, and he felt like he might float away as Thorin kissed him and held him in his warmth.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Finally!” </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, finally, indeed,” Bilbo sighed when Thorin pulled away. Then they both turned to see half the company watching them from the window.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Kili!” Thorin bellowed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m proud of you, Uncle!” Kili exclaimed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bilbo burned his face into his hands.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Go back to bed, all of you,” Thorin growled. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Adad is going to be so happy.” Kili grinned.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m so glad that Uncle finally figured it out,” Fili sighed. “Now, you two can go have a nice shag and hopefully you won’t be so grumpy anymore.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thorin stood up and yelled a long line of very harsh sounding words in Khuzdul, and Bilbo just sat there with his hands folded on his lap as he contemplated shagging Thorin. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Well, yes, Thorin was his soulmate after all. And he thought Bilbo was hot, of all things. Of course he would shag him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thorin,” Bilbo interrupted, placing a hand on Thorin’s forearm. “How about we go somewhere more private?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thorin stopped mid-yell and quirked an eyebrow at him. Then a mischievous smile curled onto his lips. “There’s no need for that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And then he swooped down and picked Bilbo up as he let out an indignant yelp, and proceeded to kiss him so deeply that Bilbo saw stars.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Naturally, Kili, Fili, and all the others left them alone after that. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Or, well, at least for now. There would be a lot of teasing tomorrow, indeed. But Bilbo was okay with this kind of teasing; he was the one kissing Thorin under the stars and moonlight after all, and his soulmark was now being adorned with flowers just as his mother’s had been before. Thorin’s wrist now glittered like mithril and diamonds, no longer hidden, and though his and Bilbo’s marks were very different, they were both dazzling in their own way, and could not have been complete without finding the other. Bilbo’s heart was finally blooming, and Thorin’s had finally been unearthed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The sun had found the moon.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Happy Holidays everyone! ^_^</p></blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>